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Analyses on BangladeshTue, 20 Mar 2018 01:54:04 +0000enhourly1http://wordpress.com/https://s2.wp.com/i/buttonw-com.pngmahinkhanhttps://mahinkhan.wordpress.com
Is Bangladesh spiralling out of control?https://mahinkhan.wordpress.com/2013/06/14/is-bangladesh-spiralling-out-of-control/
Fri, 14 Jun 2013 15:24:30 +0000http://mahinkhan.wordpress.com/?p=78The massacre of Hefazat protesters in Dhaka by Bangladeshi security forces, followed by the government’s initial denial and subsequent justification of casualties, raises serious questions about the future, security and stability of Bangladesh.

On May 5th an anti-government protest took place in Dhaka, Bangladesh, followed by an overnight sit-in. It was met with extreme brutality by the government’s security forces. Organised by Hefazat-e-Islam (Protection of Islam), an apolitical group drawn from the independent conservative religious establishment, the rally was a response to, and in some ways mirrored, the Shahbag spectacle that began in February. The latter provoked the ire of the religious establishment when some of its leaders were accused of defaming Islam, the faith of up to 90% of their fellow citizens. Despite a state clamp down on media coverage, and the government’s denial of casualties, evidence of a massacre on May 5th has emerged. The ruthless violence that met the demonstration raises serious concerns for Bangladesh’s moderate image and future.

Hefazat responded to Shahbag initially with a nationwide protest on 22nd February, during which they were fired upon by police, and then with 13 demands around which they rallied in a Long March to Dhaka on 6th April. Hefazat’s Long March impressed many for its organised and largely peaceful nature, in spite of provocation from pro-government thugs and a nationwide transport lock-down. The march culminated with a rally around the Shapla roundabout in Dhaka’s Motijheel business district, and promptly dispersed at 5pm, setting a precedent for orderly mass protest.

There was no reason to believe that May 5th would be any different. Hefazat’s leader, Allama Shafi, made multiple statements affirming that the protest would be non-violent; giving strict instructions to his activists to resist provocation by reciting the names of God. Although Hefazat leaders instructed activists not to bring minors, many brought along children and students intending and expecting a peaceful protest.

On the day however, clashes broke out around the national mosque, Baitul Mukarram (House of Honour). While the official transcript speaks of Hefazat-led violence aided by the opposition student group Shibir, witnesses have reported unprovoked attacks from police aided by openly armed ruling party thugs. Many protesters were beaten and killed in the violence over the afternoon, and a row of Islamic bookshops were burnt. The government held Hefazat and opposition ‘terrorists’ responsible for burning the bookstores. Such a claim is as ludicrous as suggesting that priests would set fire to copies of the Bible. Given the location of the stores, some 60 yards from the ruling party offices, and considering who had most to gain from disrupting the protests, one can draw other conclusions about the perpetrators.

After fleeing from Baitul Mukarram, the protesters gathered at Shapla Square where it was decided they would stage an overnight sit-in. That evening, electricity was cut off in the area. Press were not permitted to enter and the two opposition TV channels, Diganta TV and Islamic TV, who were covering the rally live, had their offices raided and transmission shut down. At around 2:45am an estimated 10,000 armed personnel of the police, border guards (BGB) and the infamous Rapid Action Battalion (RAB) attacked crowds of unarmed protesters. Most Hefazat activists were sleeping or praying during the raid; as live Diganta TV coverage showed prior to being taken off air and as eye witnesses confirm. These men were political novices, unarmed, mostly rural people sleeping under the stars in an alien city and tired from street conflicts with police and ruling party youth earlier in the day. The operation was carried out in the dark, and in a heavily built up area as the city slept. Everything from rubber bullets to live ammunition, sound grenades, water cannons and tear gas were employed to ruthlessly clear the crowd.

The government and security chiefs immediately denied any state inflicted casualties from the night raid. Given the facts that have been possible to garner, this was a blatant lie. If nobody was killed and nothing shameful happened, why cut off the lights and shut down broadcasting media organisations?

Human rights group Odhikar observed: “It was obvious that they [the government] wanted to hide the brutality of the operation and the numbers of dead and injured.” Odhikar have since written a crucial extensive investigative report on the rally and massacre. The Bangladeshi establishment’s cover-up makes assessment of the massacre’s scale difficult. Two reporters attempting to cover the operation were beaten by officers and admitted to intensive care. The following day a Section 144 was imposed, forbidding gatherings of four people or more. The Home Minister has subsequently imposed a month long ban on political gatherings and the government has announced restrictions on the Internet, particularly social media – a crucial medium for dissenting voices exposing the Hefazat rally massacre.

Reporting through the information blockade

Leaked footage swiftly began to appear on social media, still images and videos, along with witness accounts and reports from rights groups not beholden to the government. They tell a disturbing story of extreme and open brutality. Footage shows unarmed and terrified men running for their lives amidst merciless firing, young and old bodies strewn across the ground, and police brutally beating the wounded, convulsing and dying.

Amid state denial of casualties the issue of numbers has dominated the discourse. The Asian Human Rights Commission (AHRC) termed the operation a ‘massacre of demonstrators’ suggesting the possibility of 2,500 deaths. Odhikar reported upto hundreds of deaths during a “killing spree” by security forces assisted by armed ruling party men; their investigations to date confirm the names of at least 61 killed. Even European diplomats estimated a death toll of 50, while The Economist of London wrote of a massacre. Hefazat have given an estimate of over 2000 missing and feared dead and 15,000 injured, with 200 madrassa students reported missing from a single town.

A surviving activist* present at the operation and in contact with this writer has reported witnessing an estimated 300 dead bodies and having heard the sound of trucks from his place of hiding in a garage. Another survivor fleeing the scene reported seeing garbage trucks being loaded with bodies – dead and wounded – and driven away. Grassroots political activists known to this writer have reported discussions with police who admit to deaths in the thousands. Whether the death toll is in the tens, hundreds or thousands, it is clear a massacre took place in the dark and in cold blood.

Though the state may seek to deny bloodshed, its use of detainees to manipulate the story gives observers little reason to trust its public presentation of events. On May 6th Allama Junaid Babunagari, the Secretary General of Hefazat, was arrested and placed on prolonged remand, a term that suggests interrogation but is widely recognised as custodial torture. He has since been presented at court, visibly ill, and conveniently stating that opposition party men joined and funded Hefazat, came armed to overthrow the government and committed atrocities. Contesting this, Allama Shafi issued a statement asserting Babunagari’s “confession” was forcibly coerced, demanding his freedom and reissuing his 13 points. Babunagari has since been admitted to hospital intensive care and is fighting for his life, with one leg to be amputated following infection. The authorities have hurriedly granted him bail, a move Hefazat states is designed to abdicate state responsibility should he not survive.

The nation has not just witnessed a massacre of immense gravity, but an equally shocking suppression of reporting on it. Amnesty and Human Rights Watch have called for independent investigations, while an investigative report by Al-Jazeera – the only international news agency to attempt deeper scrutiny – indicates that there is indeed an active government cover-up. Shortly after Hefazat’s April 6th Long March, editor Mahmudur Rahman was arrested and tortured in police custody and remains in detention, now burdened with a fresh stint in remand. Even his elderly mother, now acting editor of his paper, Amar Desh (My Country), has been sued along with editor of opposition newspaper, The Daily Sangram (Movement). This is in addition to the arbitrary closure of Diganta TV and Islamic TV in the early hours of May 6th.

In response, on May 19th sixteen media editors, including editors of leading pro-government papers, condemned these actions in the name of press freedom, demanding the release of Mahmudur Rahman and the reopening of the TV channels. A council of Editors has since been set up to protect press freedom. The Information Minister and head of the National Socialist Party, Hasanul Haq Inu, lashed out at this rare act of professional solidarity, warning that standing up for Rahman and the others was “not in the best interest of the media”.

Press freedom, journalistic integrity and freedom of conscience lie at the very roots of a thriving and healthy democracy. These repressive actions are symptoms of the absence of democratic values amongst the power elite and its dependants in Bangladesh. What compounds the inhumanity is the active ignorance, disinterest and misrepresentation of the international press and the collusion of the local press with the state in the cover up.

Dehumanising the messenger

Both Hefazat and its demands, several perfectly reasonable and some debatable, have been misunderstood and misrepresented by gatekeepers in media and politics: painting a picture of backward, intolerant religious fundamentalists challenging their plural and progressive society. One pro-government paper claimed Hefazat was coming to Dhaka with arms, aided and abetted by the opposition, in an article that may as well have been drafted in the ruling party headquarters. Reference to the “Taliban” was carried with glee on social media by pro-government and pro-Shahbag groups. This narrative was then uncritically recycled by the international press for whom images of non-white, bearded Muslim men as “extremists” and “fundamentalists” sell well. A preoccupation with “blasphemy law” rhetoric emerged, a term Hefazat did not even use or call for but were billed for regardless. The press, both in Bangladesh and abroad – including Jason Burke at the Guardian – were quick to frame a misogynistic and marginal organisation that sought to prevent women from work, much to the dismay of female garment workers.

Such dehumanizing and denigrating language laid the groundwork for the massacre of protesters in Dhaka. It is alarming that rather than address this massacre, our press has been sneering at supposed “blasphemy laws” and plying “fundamentalist” labels. This is a narrative that maligns victims as villains, distracts the world’s eyes just a few weeks after the worst industrial disaster Bangladesh has known, and manufactures consent for massacre to take place with minimal accountability. A few of Hefazat’s demands are challenging, but discomfort with people’s demands should not diminish the principle that they have a right to express them and organise in a democracy, nor take precedence over the inherent sanctity of human life and the rights to dignity and security. Journalistic priorities lie not in garnering an Orientalist horror of the “barbarisms” of the east amongst our “enlightened” western – or westernized – audiences. They lie in searching out and disseminating the balanced truth, and lifting the salient from the petty.

Against female economic participation?

Ruling party leaders have claimed Hefazat would force women to stay at home and hinder their advancement. However, nowhere in Hefazat’s public demands are such things indicated; with point 4 of their 13 demands stating:

For the betterment of the country there is no other alternative to empowering the women. To achieve this we must ensure security, education, health, safe job environment, honourable living, and fair wages for the women.

Furthermore, garments sector union leader, Nazma Akhter, made clear that Hefazat and its demands were not a concern to them. As Hefazat’s own statement, and the commentary of the respected feminist, Farida Akhter, has noted, the organisation is in fact calling for safer and fairer working conditions for women. In a context of garment industry disasters, with over 1100 deaths in the Rana Plaza collapse alone, where women form the bulk of a long-suffering and exploited workforce, such demands are crucial. Hefazat goes on to call for an end to sexual harassment, a rampant concern in factories, and the economically debilitating dowry culture many Bangladeshi women are victim to. Farida Akhter noted that, had the demand been put forward by a non-Islamic organisation, all would have united behind it.

This is quite a telling reality. Women often present a convenient tool used to malign the religious. Not only does this appear a deeply disingenuous strategy, but in a context in which the state routinely exploits women to the extreme in a garments industry owned by many of its ministers and supporters, it also appears hypocritical and opportunistic.

A fundamentalist menace?

Whilst some have sought to malign Hefazat as extreme and religiously intolerant, a cursory glance at their heritage proves otherwise. Hefazat has roots in the Darul Ulum (Abode of Knowledge) movement of Deoband in India, an educational institution established in 1866 on apolitical grassroots values, sustained by communities and rejecting state or corporate funding. Hefazat draws on a network of seminaries that continue this tradition in Bangladesh. Hefazat’s founder Allama Ahmad Shafi was a student of Deoband’s Maulana Hussain Ahmad Madani. During the British occupation Madani proposed the pluralistic political concept of Composite Nationalism; that a nation is built on a geographical area composing of several identities and communities rather than a single identity. It is from this Islamic theological tradition, which sought a plural society over the “two-nation theory” which precipitated in the partition of India, that Hefazat hails.

We must also observe that although the Islamic establishment is usually apolitical, its voice and power emerge at critical points in greater societal and moral strife. Hefazat’s emergence over the recent months speaks volumes about the depth and extent of social injustice in Bangladesh.

Joining the dots

Where Bangladesh’s future lies now is uncertain. Just before the Hefazat massacre came the Rana Plaza disaster, claiming at least 1,127 innocent lives. This was yet another product of state corruption, callous disregard for rule of law and corporate cronyism. Many of the victims were women; whilst the inherent misogyny of Bangladesh’s garment’s industry, particularly within the Bangladesh Garment Manufacturers and Exporters Association (BGMEA), remains unscrutinised. Protests by Rana Plaza survivors since have been met with state brutality, leaving at least 50 wounded. Workers’ protests for higher wages and safety have spiked in the industrial district of Ashulia in recent weeks. Met with characteristic state brutality, at least 30 are wounded from police fire. Tea plantation employees have also been protesting for higher wages. The political opposition continues to face brutal suppression, leading them to act with increasing desperation. In recent weeks, Delwar Hossain, leader of opposition student group Shibir, emerged from 52 days on remand in a state of physical collapse, carried to court in clear agony; apparently now paralysed from the waist down. A newly elected leader of hundreds of thousands of students nationwide, such abuse has provoked anguish and outrage.

The discredited International War Crimes Tribunal, (ICT) continues in spite of another scandalous revelation: a crucial defence witness, Shukhoranjan Bali, of the now convicted Delwar Hossain Sayedee, has been discovered in an Indian prison. Bali had been abducted by Dhaka police at the court gates upon arrival to give testimony in November 2012 and been disappeared, feared dead. The police and state denied involvement, even alleging ‘self-hiding’ but Bali has now confirmed their role in his abduction, despite the BBC Bengali service’s best efforts to discredit him. Human Rights Watch has demanded Bali’s protection given the danger to his life should he be repatriated. The ICT verdict of Prof Ghulam Azam, the 91 year old retired leader of opposition Jamaat-i-Islami, is expected at any time; his case too is riddled with astounding irregularities and reasons for doubt. A recent letter to the UN from two members of the British House of Lords expressed serious concern at the tribunal’s shortcomings.

Dear Bangladesh, where do we go from here?

The government’s oppression of the opposition has been on-going for years. Opposition leaders are locked away and tortured, leaving families living in constant fear and an anguished and frustrated following without the guidance and hope that leadership provides. This writer has interviewed several young and talented opposition women who have been incarcerated without charge in appalling conditions or have family behind bars and tortured. The Motijheel massacre is a political landmark in the extension of this oppression to the usually apolitical Islamic establishment. With tensions boiling over, the night-time massacre of Hefazat demonstrators, followed by the cover-up, denial and now justification raises serious concerns for human endurance and the path of moderation itself. Injustice is a terrible corrosive, and challenges the humanity and spirituality of the broken-hearted and marginalised.

The Bangladesh issue is no longer a local issue with local actors to be brushed aside. We must not sleepwalk into political segregation. We must act with courage to prevent the debilitating hold of indifference. If a sense of humanity alone does not force the international community to intervene to hold Bangladesh’s government to account, common sense and prudence at the very least should.

The latest conviction and death sentence handed down by the ICT has already sparked further protests. As the state-sponsored clampdown on the press quickly grows to encompass anyone willing to speak out, what does this mean for demands for accountability?

Today the opposition leader and internationally renowned orator Delwar Hossain Sayedee has been convicted by Bangladesh’s International Crimes Tribunal and sentenced to death. The murkiness around Sayedee’s trial almost does not bear repeating – this is the defendant whose witness was abducted by police and never seen again, and whose trial was most affected by the revelations brought by The Economist. Human Rights Watch published multiple statements demanding the missing witness be found and that a retrial take place in Sayedee’s case, but to no avail. While the court was in session, the government turned off social media, Facebook in particular, to prevent ‘negative propaganda’. Since the verdict, nationwide protests have erupted with dozens already dead and many more injured amidst police shooting. Meanwhile, protests are also taking place in the diaspora, with crowds gathering outside the Bangladesh embassy in London and elsewhere today.

Delowar Hossain Sayedee who has been convicted and sentenced to death under controversial circumstances

A climate of fear has gripped Bangladesh following a rise in state-sponsored clampdowns on voices of commentary and dissent. While victims primarily include opposition commentators, with the recent escalation of violence, the net of attack has widened. The increasing erosion of free speech is a matter that should concern any believer in a just and democratic society, yet the relative silence in the international community is a worrying affair.

While the suppression is hugely troubling it is, however, nothing new under the ruling Awami League regime. In 2010, Mahmudur Rahman, the Acting Editor of the daily Amar Desh was arrested and brutally tortured in custody. Meanwhile his newspaper was also shut down. This was in response to an article printed in Amar Desh which implicated Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina’s son, Sajeeb Wazed Joy, in corruption. More recently Kader Siddiqi, a decorated 1971 war hero, was summoned to court for suggesting the Bangladesh Home Minister, MK Alamgir, was involved in collaboration with the Pakistani Army in the war of 1971.

Mahmudur Rahman, was ultimately released and his paper resumed, yet his grief from speaking truth to power was not over. More recently he again fell afoulof the authorities after he published exposing material on the War Crimes Tribunal (ICT). In December, an iconic investigative piece by the London basedThe Economist revealed a cache of leaked material which exposed collusion between the Bangladesh ICT judge, state and prosecution. Following this Amar Desh proceeded to print transcripts of the leaks in the public interest ofexposing the political farce that is the ICT. Kader Siddiqi praised Rahman for his actions, proclaiming him a hero worthy of the Nobel Prize; Amar Desh was sold out and forced to reprint copies which were flogged at incredibly high prices. However, court orders were soon issued, Amar Desh offices surrounded by police and Rahman has been unable to leave his premises since under threat of arrest. Amnesty issued a statement calling on the Bangladesh authorities to refrain from harassing the Editor.

The recent Shahbag protests, propelled and promoted by the ruling regime, have served to only exacerbate the situation. Shahbag’s undemocratic calls to ban opposition and dissenting institutions and media have driven the government to take an ever more aggressive stance against its critics. Recently, in tragic circumstances. a Shahbag blogger, Rajib Haidar, better known by his blog nickname, Thaba Baba, was found brutally murdered by unknown assailants. While investigations continue on this unresolved case, the protesters of Shahbag were swift to assume the opposition party, Jamaat-i-Islami, was responsible. The ruling regime pounced on the suggestion in spite of Jamaat’s denial, going so far as to threaten the party with banning.

Soon after, Sonar Bangla, a prominent blog run by the opposition that published critique of both the ICT and the Shahbag movement was shut down by the government. This especially followed circulation by Shahbag activists ofscreenshots from a particular Sonar Bangla blog in which Rajib had been identified as a lead Shahbag campaigner and atheistic in belief. The blog was hardly evidence for a murder, yet the Shahbag online activists circulated it as such and demanded that Sonar Bangla be closed. The government, in the obliging manner reserved only for its Shahbag supporters, seized upon the opportunity to shut down one of the opposition party’s few if not only prominent portals for citizen journalism in the country.

Sonar Bangla’s Editor, Aminul Mohaimen, was also arrested. By Bangladeshi law, any arrested individual must be produced before court within 24hrs. Arrested on Feb 16th, Mohaimen disappeared for a week, leaving his family traumatised for his life. His wife, Aasia Khatun, commented, ‘I along with my two children am passing days with huge agony and an unbearable trauma’. Khatun further stated she attempted to make an application with the police in connection to Mohaimen’s disappearance, but it was not accepted. There were fears Mohaimen had joined a long list of forced disappearances, a rampant issue under this regime. Past such victims include War Crimes Tribunal defence witness and victim of 1971 atrocities, Shukho Ranjan Bali, whose abduction has been reported by Human Rights Watch and in whose case also the police refused to accept any applications. Thankfully, Mohaimen was brought before court on February 23rd. The court charged him for destroying a shop, a remarkable accusation he denies, and placed him behind bars.

Opposition press offices continue to be intimidated by the state and are regularly raided by the police, with attacks intensifying since the Shahbag protests erupted. The protesters have been calling for boycott and closure of opposition media outlets, a worrying cry against free speech. The offices of newspaper, Naya Diganta were attacked and arsoned by ruling regime youth following Shahbag’s calls. When the police arrived afterwards, far from dealing with the arsonists, they raided the offices and detained an employee. Meanwhile another opposition newspaper, the Daily Sangram, has suffered repeated police raids upon its offices without any specific allegations being made. Shahbag has threatened arson against both these papers, as well as the daily Amar Desh; the latter was symbolically burned within Shahbag itself. Shahbag has been particularly vociferous in their chants against Mahmudur Rahman for his paper’s critical stance on the protest, more recently demandingthe government arrest him. The police accordingly sued him and there are fears he may be arrested at any time. Should the state detain him, there are serious concerns for his life.

Worryingly, recent events prove that violence against the press has now broadened. On Feb 22nd during countrywide opposition rallies, 25 journalistsfrom diverse media outlets were wounded from police fire and baton charge. This included senior reporter of the Daily Amader Otthoniti, Aminul Hoque Bhuiyan who was shot, as well as Mir Ahmed Meeru, chief photojournalist for Amar Desh who was shot no less than five times in the leg. Journalists have since expressed the fear that the state does not spare them from attack.

The environment created is such that now even the nation’s most decorated war hero gets accused of treachery and threatened for voicing critique. The result is the creation of a deep climate of fear; people are no longer comfortable to speak out for fear of arrest, custodial torture and even possible death. It has made it increasingly difficult to garner statements from within the country; only those safely living abroad seem to have the courage to speak. This writer has been in communication with numerous people within Bangladesh who have declined to comment out of terror and have even deactivated social media accounts due to increased state surveillance. As one Bengali expatriate commented:

If I were in Bangladesh right now, I would have never dared to write this, never ever. You can take risk on your own life, but no one wants to put their family members in harms way. In Bangladesh, now, if you say something and it goes against the interest of the government and/or its allies, you must pay the price. RAB (Rapid Action Battalion) or DB (Detective Branch) police will be haunting you. If you are lucky enough to escape, well, there is always someone in your family to pay off.

Apart from the disintegration of human rights such circumstances give rise to, fewer dissenting voices mean less accountability; where the people can no longer hold its leadership accountable things can only get worse in an already troubling situation of extraordinary state corruption and oppression. With the erasure of free speech and a free press, Bangladesh is fast turning into an oppressive autocracy; one in which justice and liberty mean little and security is measured by silent subservience to the state.

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]]>police brutality 28.2.13mahinkDelowar Hossain Sayedee who has been convicted and sentenced to death under controversial circumstancesPolice beating a detained and handcuffed opposition protester on Thursday Feb 28 2013Laws of passion: the Shahbag protestshttps://mahinkhan.wordpress.com/2013/02/12/laws-of-passion-the-shahbag-protests/
Tue, 12 Feb 2013 16:57:15 +0000http://mahinkhan.wordpress.com/?p=17

The second verdict handed down by Bangladesh’s war crimes tribunal is life imprisonment. Now a death sentence is being demanded in mass protests supported by the ruling regime, with calls for violence that extend into Bangladeshi society. Yet the guilty verdict itself may be a far cry from sound.

Thousands have gathered across Bangladesh in protest across several cities. Images of the freedom movements of the Middle East are evoked, but this is no freedom movement. The protesters have gathered to speak out against the second verdict handed down by the Bangladesh International War Crimes Tribunal (ICT). Abdul Quader Molla, a senior leader of the opposition party, Jamaat-i-Islami, was found guilty by the ICT of crimes against humanity and sentenced to life imprisonment. To the protestors, who began their movement in the Shahbag crossing of the capital Dhaka, this is not enough. They want Molla and the other accused hanged.

Children with “we want razakars hanged” painted on their bodies.Source: news.priyo.com

Molla denies having committed the crimes and repeated his denial upon receiving the sentence. His party has strongly condemned the verdict as politically motivated while his lawyers have pledged to appeal to the high court. Among the concerns raised by the defence are that the prosecution only presented 12 witnesses, many of whom were ‘hearsay’ witnesses and beneficiaries of the ruling Awami League led regime that has championed this tribunal. More tellingly, the defence themselves were permitted to only present six witnesses, half those permitted the prosecution, in this high profile and much belated war crimes case. Ultimately, the lawyers observed that the trial dealt with deeply emotional issues and the judges had permitted their emotions to cloud their judgement.

The concerns are glaring. Nonetheless, the government’s junior Law Minister, Qamrul Islam, has expressed dissatisfaction at the ‘leniency’ of the verdict. Islam has, incredibly, confirmed the government is now preparing to make changes to the ICT Act to allow the prosecution to appeal the verdict of life imprisonment and seek the higher sentence of execution. Under current laws the prosecution can only appeal acquittals. The Law Commission of Bangladesh has already presented draft amendments to the Bangladesh Law Ministry.

There has been much international criticism for the ICT, and not without reason. The most recent, and most high profile, includes a statement issued by theUnited Nations in which Christof Heyns, the United Nations Special Rapporteur on extrajudicial, summary or arbitrary executions, “expressed alarm” at the fair trial and due process concerns raised, stating “Capital punishment may be imposed only following proceedings that give all possible safeguards to ensure a fair trial and due process, at least equal to those stipulated in the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, to which Bangladesh is a State party.”

Not long before the UN statement, Human Rights Watch, in its latest of a series of press releases expressing concerns over the ICT and as part of its World Report 2013, condemned the current running of the tribunal. The report commented on “glaring violations of fair trial standards” in the trials of the ICT, observing that “serious flaws in the law and rules of procedure governing these trials have gone unaddressed, despite proposals from the US government and many international experts.”

Perhaps the most interesting international report on the ICT, however, came from The Economist. In an analysis, the British based news magazine revealed it had been given a cache of leaked material that exposed ‘a disturbing pattern’ of collusion between the presiding judge of the tribunal, Nizamul Haque Nasim, an international lawyer based in Brussels, Ziauddin Ahmed, and the prosecution team. Furthermore, it became clear from the leaks that the government was applying serious pressure on the ICT to come up with quick verdicts.

For their part, the opposition party, Jamaat-i-Islami, and its youth wing, Chatra Shibir, have been protesting the partial and political nature of the ICT, under which all their senior most leaders stand accused. They have, however, been specific in asserting that they will stand by any new court that is established on fair grounds and following due process. These protests, while large and countrywide, have not enjoyed the same widespread and rose-tinted coverage by the pro-regime media as Shahbag has. Instead, this opposition has been sharply and consistently condemned as a ‘conspiracy’ to undermine the tribunal, with complete disregard for the opposition party’s expressed acceptance of a tribunal that respects due process and fulfills international standards. Meanwhile, the police, in coalition with the ruling regime’s youth, the Bangladesh Chatra League, have administered a brutal crackdown on opposition rallies, leaving many dead and arresting hundreds. Recent protests resulted in four deaths of Jamaat and Shibir members, including a boy of class 10.

The protests in Shahbag and elsewhere in the country, are an interesting addition to the mix. These protestors, unlike the opposition, have faced no police violence; indeed the police have been helping them along by diverting traffic (meanwhile, police have prevented another opposition party, the Bangladesh Nationalist Party, from holding a prescheduled rally on Saturday). This is perhaps unsurprising, given the protesters of Shahbag are repeating the very demands members of the ruling regime have been making throughout the ICT process. While Shahbag may claim to be apolitical, it is evident their concordance with the nation’s ruling politicians is doing much to assist the cause. Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina herself has openly expressed solidarity with the protest and committed herself to fulfilling the protestors’ demands, stating in parliament “Every word of their oath is justified. We will do whatever necessary to implement their oath. It is our commitment” and even whimsically commenting “My soul is also with them, I wish I could join them at Shahbagh.”

It has also proven almost impossible to reason with the protestors, many of whom aggressively denounce any critique of their movement as “pro-Pakistani”, “pro-war criminal”, “unpatriotic” and accuse critics of being “razakars” (“collaborators” – a derogatory term for those deemed to have assisted the Pakistan army in 1971), “neo-razakars” or “children of war criminals” among any number of other tasteless epithets. That blindly angry individuals of this kind are likely to descend upon this article too is quite expected.

The protest has gathered people of varying ages with a common cause. Photos are appearing of protestors wearing “we want razakars hanged” bandannas across their forehead, while Shahbag slogans are being broadcast across the media: “We have only one demand, hang the Razakars”, “Hanging, we want hanging!”, “Make batons, beat Shibir”, “Throw shoes at the face of Razakars”, “catch Shibir and slaughter them”. Meanwhile, there have been placardsproclaiming “I want to murder Quader Molla and spend two months in prison”. Even young children have been photographed with “we want the razakars hanged” painted in blood red across their torso.

The terms of this protest are truly disturbing in their open advocacy of violence and capital punishment, particularly in their inclusion of children in this violent and vindictive approach. While Bangladesh was freed as a nation in 1971, it is clear that it is yet to be freed from the aggressive hate of the dominant liberation narrative. Much as the Bengali media may try to claim it, this rally is no Tahrir Square, where the noble cause of protest was freedom from oppressive dictatorship and the establishment of democracy. This rally is one of hate and revenge. As one astute blogger notes, this is not Shahbag Square, this is Shahbag More with more people than usual. Some protestors have even created the slogan, “we’ve got the razakars, what about their children?” Little is left to be said.

The Shahbag protestors have also been calling for the banning of Jamaat-i-Islami, taking pledges to boycott many of Jamaat’s institutions, including hospitals and banks. That a democratic party – the only one to be internally democratic in structure in a nation of dynastic political parties – should be banned in the name of secular democracy is an incredible claim. As a registered political party that observes due political processes, there is little claim to ban the party if democracy is to be respected. The democratic way to oppose would be to use the ballot – if you don’t like them, don’t vote for them. Yet this fact appears to elude the self-proclaimed secular democrats of this protest, and a more autocratic law of governance seems to paradoxically reign.

Aristotle states in his Politics that “the law is reason unaffected by desire” (in a more popular variant: “the law is reason free from passion”). The Shahbag protest only confirms that Bangladesh is singularly ill-suited to hold a tribunal over the terrible war crimes of 1971. As the glaringly controversial and compromised tribunal continues to conduct problematic trials, the people on the ground of Shahbag are evidently more interested in revenge fed by deep vitriolic passions than true justice conducted by a rational and balanced court of law. For this reason, among the great many others, it is imperative that the Bangladesh ICT be transferred abroad, to be conducted under the jurisdiction of the United Nations, where heated passions of either party in this conflict cannot compromise a court in which lives – both those murdered in 1971 and those behind bars today – are in the balance.

The Bangladeshi International War Crimes Tribunal quickly became a stage for political interference and intimidation. With elections approaching, escalating tactics threaten to condemn the entire pursuit for justice.

The Bangladesh International Crimes Tribunal (ICT) has again been at the centre of scandal following the abduction of a defence witness by plain-clothes policemen last Monday. Shukho Ranjan Bali had been in the car of senior defence counsel, Mizanul Islam, along with other members of the defence counsel en route to the ICT on November 5th to testify for the accused Allama Delwar Hossain Sayedee. At the entrance of the tribunal, the car was stopped and uniformed police informed those inside that they had instructions to only admit designated defence lawyers. Meanwhile, men in plain clothes approached the car and abducted Bali, amidst protests from Islam and others, while the uniformed policemen merely looked on unperturbed and unmoved by calls for aid. The plain clothes men identified themselves as members of the ‘Detective Branch’ and proceeded to bundle away the distressed Bali into a van of Bangladesh’s infamous Rapid Action Battalion (RAB), a body condemned byHuman Rights Watch for extra-judicial killings and torture.

In response to Bali’s abduction, chief defence counsel, Barrister Abdur Razzaq, petitioned the tribunal to address the issue and take due measures, particularly given the likelihood of the prosecuting body’s complicity in the abduction. Bali had initially been enlisted as a prosecution witness who failed to appear in court, and the prosecution had presented what they stated was a written testimony from him in absentia. Soon after, however, Bali appeared in the media stating “I did not want to give any false witness. Just I have to tell the truth what I know.” Thereafter he decided to become a witness for the defence, the second such witness to do so.

Rather than immediately ordering an impartial investigation, the court asked the prosecution itself to look into the allegations and later accepted its statement that the event was entirely false. At this, the defence counsel boycotted the tribunal for a day in protest. In response, the Tribunal held the defence in contempt of court, barring the entry of defence counsel, Tajul Islam, into court until November 22. Mizanul Islam also attempted to file a complaint with the relevant police agency, Shahbagh Police Station, but the branch refused to file the complaint or give an explanation for their refusal. Meanwhile, the prosecution has accused the defence of propaganda, paradoxically claiming Mr Bali is hiding due to intimidation from the defence counsel. None of the many who witnessed the abduction – from the police to the lawyers and driver – have been questioned. Amidst the furore, and largely ignored by the Bangladeshi media, the chairman of the ICT, Justice Nizamul Huq, made the incredible declaration that no member of the ICT defence counsel will be permitted to see their clients, the accused, anymore.

It reads like a particularly dramatic and implausible run of a poorly scripted soap opera, yet these events are real. How a court can prohibit the entry of witnesses is anyone’s guess, yet the abduction and events that followed beggar belief. It is a particularly worrying matter that Bali, now ostensibly in the custody of RAB, has been missing for over a week. The missing witness has become the latest victim of a major trend in abduction and forced disappearances that has plagued Bangladesh under the Awami League-led ruling regime.

In response to the abduction, Britain’s Lord Avebury issued a statement on Thursday, stating “Knowing the fate of others who have been abducted by RAB in the past, if Bali has come to any harm, command responsibility will rest on senior law enforcement officials, and on those who were in charge of the Tribunal’s security.” Furthermore, Human Rights Watch issued a statement calling on the Bangladesh authorities to urgently investigate the case. Brad Adams, Asia Director for HRW stated, “An allegation as serious as the abduction of a witness deserves prompt action, and a thorough and impartial investigation. Instead of ordering an independent investigation, the court asked a party in the case to investigate, and then blithely accepted its answer. This is an unacceptable way to respond to an allegation of abduction. Where is Shukho Ranjon Bali?” Meanwhile, David Bergman, a journalist closely following the ICT who has been investigating the abduction, has provided a detailed account with pictures of the abduction.

Many are now concerned for the safety and survival of Bali. That he is a victim of and witness to the atrocities of the 1971 war, having lost his brother in the conflict, brings into particular relief the brand of “justice for victims” the ICT claims to seek. In this tribunal, victims of war swiftly become victims of the court depending on which side they represent. The case may be seen as part of a larger campaign of intimidation against the defence and its witnesses. With the abduction and concerns for the life of Bali, whether further witnesses will show willingness to come forward is doubtful, with worrying consequences for due process and justice.

The abduction comes hard on the heels of the ICT’s recent imposed cap on the number of witnesses the defence counsel are permitted to present in the case of the accused, Professor Ghulam Azam. Professor Azam, who turned 90 this week, has been held in custody since January this year. Repeated requests for bail on the grounds of his age and frailty have been dismissed by the tribunal. In what seems remarkable for any court, following a request by the prosecution team, who had already completed the examination of their own 16 witnesses, the judges limited the defence counsels witnesses to 12, four less than that presented by the prosecution, and placed no similar cap on the latter. The judges’ consistent and blatant pandering to the prosecution in this manner is a troubling indication of the questionable impartiality of the ICT.

Meanwhile, the media has continued its role in largely colluding with the state to minimise awareness and critique. State media, including privately run news channels and newspapers, most of which are subservient or fearful of the ruling regime, have maintained a telling silence over the ICT chair’s statement preventing the meeting of defence lawyers with their respective clients. The media critical of the tribunal or the regime have faced severe intimidation, not dissimilar to that experienced by defence witnesses. Mir Quasem Ali, owner of Diganta Media, an organisation critical of the Awami League-led government and the ICT in particular, has been arrested and locked away. This is not the only instance either; in 2010 the editor of newspaper, Amar Desh, Mahmudur Rahman, was arrested and tortured in custody while his publication was shut down for publishing articles accusing Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina’s son of corruption. Although Mahmudur Rahman was later released and Amar Desh resumed, the intimidation of Diganta Media, and the continued harassment of journalists across the country reflect that the regime has not changed tack.

The recent increasing frequency of such activities may highlight a tension within the ICT as the Bangladesh elections approach and the future of the ruling regime becomes uncertain. Desperate to secure a prize while the regime upholding it remains in office, or at the very least produce desired results, the tribunal appears intent on spurring on legal proceedings and recklessly eliminating any obstructions in its path.

On the same day Bali’s abduction took place International NGO No Justice Without Peace issued a statement calling on the Bangladesh authorities to both bring an end to the death penalty, which the accused at the ICT may face if convicted, and ensure the strict observance of due process. The statement highlighted the necessity of doing so not only for justice to be served for the victims and country, but for the credibility of the court to withstand the scrutiny of history, not create the potential for future unjust exploitation as current procedure predicts.

The Bangladesh International Crimes Tribunal has continued to commit subversion and malpractice to achieve what such events increasingly expose to be the pre-planned vengeance of a charade tribunal. As witnesses are eliminated, critical media locked away and state media fully in sync with a whirring propaganda machine, the intended direction of the tribunal is clear. To prevent a grave miscarriage of justice and its repercussions, the international community must now, more than ever, intervene.

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]]>balimahinkbali40 Years of Bangladesh, 40 Years Denying Closurehttps://mahinkhan.wordpress.com/2011/12/15/40-years-of-bangladesh-40-years-denying-closure/
Thu, 15 Dec 2011 19:57:45 +0000http://mahinkhan.wordpress.com/?p=35This year a small delta nation, a land of fertile plains, luscious terrain and a remarkably rich history and heritage, celebrates its 40thbirthday. In 1971, following an epic struggle for freedom, dignity and justice, Bangladesh was born.

While the popular narrative of Bengal history tends to begin in the British colonial era of the 18th century, a rich history existed for many centuries prior to this. With its wealth of natural resources, Bengal was arguably the most prosperous region of the sub-continent up until it was colonised. In 1757, the East India Company occupied the region, beginning with their victory at the Battle of Plassey in 1757. This brought a seismic shift in the socio-political and economic state of the region, and within a few decades Bengal became one of the poorest regions in South Asia. This turning point in the country’s history is a significant chapter in the relationship of the Bengali people and Britain; an early chapter on the place of the Bengali Diaspora in Britain today.

The 1947 partition of united India created Pakistan and India. Yet the newly formed Pakistan with its Eastern wing (later, Bangladesh) and Western wing (present day Pakistan) had only begun to experience its birth pangs. Within five years, the Bengali Language Movement began, in response to the refusal by its central government, based in West Pakistan, to recognise Bengali as an official language. In the subsequent years, increasing dissatisfaction towards West Pakistan for its policy of injustice towards its Eastern wing culminated in a tumultuous nine-month war. On 26 March 1971 an independent Bangladesh was finally born and 16 December 1971 saw the signing of the Instrument of Surrender by the Pakistani Army. The valiant language movement was recognised by the international community with the UNESCO declaring 21 of February as ‘International Mother Language Day’. To commemorate those who lost their lives, and to support the many struggling survivors, George Harrison, along with numerous other renowned artists, hosted a charitable Concert for Bangladesh in August 1971.

The new Bangladesh, since 1971, has witnessed many challenges and political upheavals as well as significant developments. From widespread political and bureaucratic corruption, political violence, environmental calamity, poverty and overpopulation to significant progress in literacy and gender parity in education, a vast human resource and remarkable growth in economic development. In December 2005 Goldman Sachs placed Bangladesh on the list of Next Eleven largest global economies, and in February 2011 Citigroup named Bangladesh as among the Global Growth Generators. In spite of the challenges, over its relatively short life span, the nation has come a long way.

But perhaps one area remains the most challenging of all for Bangladesh – that of its war of birth in 1971. Four decades have passed, yet the war remains an unresolved space, creating conflict both within Bangladesh and the wider diaspora. While 1971 should have become an event to unify Bangladeshis in honouring the birth of their nation, it has become a target of political exploitation by the nation’s dominant political parties. The facts and figures are routinely manipulated such that Bangladesh has no real agreed upon modern history. Indeed little value appears to be given to fact where politics is concerned. The dominant narrative on the war is dependent on the political party in power, and is set to be rewritten and fiercely protected by the next government. The destabilising effects of this narrative have been palpable for these 40 years; a nation incapable of agreeing on the very roots of its conception will find securing its identity, stability and progress a challenge. While 1971 released the nation from a partnership that was too often imbalanced and unjust, it is now against the exploitative and destabilising bounds of this contentious debate that the nation requires liberty.

While the facts remain unverified and unreliable the hope for closure for the victims and the nation remains remote. Those seeking political appropriation of the war insist on dragging out and misusing a memory, rather than permitting the sufferers to come to terms with it and move on. To allow closure is to stopper the exploitation of this period, hence this is resisted. At the other end are those who resist acknowledging that the suffering has not concluded, that many still need to come to terms with the memories and gain justice, and that things cannot simply be brushed under the carpet. If crimes have been committed, they must be faced and addressed, not avoided.

The primary point of contest remains in the details. While the current leading Awami League (AL) led government in Bangladesh routinely propagate the three million deaths figure, viable testimony remains to the contrary and is conveniently disregarded. That a great many suffered and died is undeniable and must be addressed, but to stubbornly tamper with the facts is to dishonour the victims. In the name of seeking truth, but with all indications of exacting revenge, the government has established an International War Crimes Tribunal (ICT) to try those they accuse of war crimes, decades after a general amnesty had been granted by Bangladesh’s founding President, Mujibur Rahman. Claiming to want to try those who committed crimes, the ICT is neither attempting nor can aspire to try the most glaring culprits from the period: the West Pakistan army officials. Instead, all cases are being directed towards accused Bangladeshis, most of whom, significantly, sit in the camps of the political opposition to the ruling party. It would appear the ICT, bearing little sign of ‘international’ standards, has all signs of being another means of silencing political opposition and securing power than achieving the truth.

The injustice of this situation towards the victims of the war is perhaps the greatest tragedy. Rather than securing closure, their realities are routinely appropriated to serve political ends. It is high time that the War was treated with the victims – their cause, suffering and need for a resolution – genuinely at the forefront of the discourse. To be credible and just, the ICT must attain the international standards it claims to uphold and be regulated by an independent body; only then can the facts be verified without the danger of factual corruption. Indeed, such a tribunal should be held at the UN’s International Court of Justice, rather than in a young country wholly inexperienced in such procedures and under a government with a strong bias in the matter. Justice must be attained through justice.

Bangladesh is at a cross-road where the truth of the past frequently clashes with the propaganda of the present. Political conflicts are genuinely hindering the progress of the nation. Both those within Bangladesh and its diaspora, even in Britain, suffer from partisan clashes over the war. The social divisions created are another sad and long-standing product of this unresolved conflict. It is high time members across Bengali society were able to come together to discuss this single most significant event in the modern history of the nation in a mature and balanced manner. Indeed Bangladesh’s progress depends upon it – the future cannot be built in the absence of the past.

Far from being reconciliatory, the government’s International War Crimes Tribunal is tantamount to a witch hunt of the opposition.

After 40 years, the Bangladesh government is hosting an International War Crimes Tribunal (ICT). These trials are aimed at individuals who allegedly committed war crimes during the brutal nine-month civil war that rocked the country and culminated in its formation in 1971. This has been controversial in numerous ways, from being conducted by a country wholly inexperienced in dealing with such legal proceedings to the serious criticisms from international lawyers. Many consider the trial, a prominent feature in the election campaign of the party conducting it, a theatrical act of political revenge.

The War Crimes Tribunal could have been an exemplary step towards justice following the considerable loss of life, property and human dignity in the 1971 war. However, the tribunal risks turning into a mockery of justice as it is overshadowed by what one defence lawyer described as a ‘climate of vendetta’, as well as reports by Human Rights Watch of reporting harassment of the defence. The recent visit by Stephen J Rapp, the US Ambassador-at-large for War Crimes, generated considerable controversy. Following the ICT spokesman’s expression of satisfaction with the current proceedings, Mr. Rapp called a press conference where he categorically expressed his disappointment at the Bangladesh Government’s reluctance to implement a series of his recommendations. He demanded that the trial be fair, transparent and that the proceedings are either broadcast live or witnessed by independent observers; the presiding Awami League (AL) government has shown telling reluctance in these matters.

The ICT is but one element of many controversies that tarnish Prime Minister Hasina Wajed’s government. The League seems to have a passion for creating unnecessary disruption, taking one troubling decision after another, bitterly dividing the country. The reverberations of these political misjudgements are also felt within the Bengali diaspora abroad, including in Britain.

On November 29th the parliament, due to the clout of its unprecedented government majority (87%), passed a highly controversial bill to divide the capital, Dhaka, into two administrative regions – Dhaka South and North. This major historic bill was only tabled that week, yet it took mere minutes to pass. The current Mayor of Dhaka is a prominent leader of the main opposition party, the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP). By dividing the capital into two regions, the current elected Dhaka Municipal Corporation structure will be annulled, along with the Mayor and elected Commissioners, most of whom are also from the nationalist party. The government then, as per law, will appoint an interim Mayor and Commissioners for both regions with members of their own party, and can then stage a new election to secure their own members in the relevant positions. It would appear the AL is unashamedly abusing its absolute majority in parliament – a majority brought about by a dubious election – by passing a steady stream of controversial, legally questionable, and self-serving bills.

The Nationalists have harshly condemned the government, asserting they will challenge any attempt to implement the bill, while others have criticised it as unconstitutional. The Dhaka Municipality Workers Union has staged a sit-in protest, which was attacked by police, injuring many protestors. Nonetheless, the Union leaders declared that they are willing to die rather than let this decision be implemented. Such brutal actions have fuelled anger and mistrust and have given rise to violence in response to what appears a callous desire for overwhelming domination on the part of the government. Yet in their carelessness, they have merely encouraged their own weakening and potential downfall. The Nationalist leader Khaleda Zia’s anti-government ‘Road March’ campaign is gaining momentum by the day, in spite of violent attacks, attracting hundreds of thousands of followers. Enormous crowds flocked to her public meetings where she has spoken against the government and vowed to bring it down with a mass uprising.

In a similarly controversial move, earlier this year, the AL-led government passed a bill to overturn a 15 year old system that entailed a non-partisan caretaker government to oversee general elections. The system, established in the mid-90s, was designed to prevent fraud and rigged elections. While Hasina Wajed claimed the move would consolidate the nation as a democracy, many have regarded her actions as politically motivated, designed to secure her party’s place in power. Opposition figures have been particularly damning of the move, with the Nationalists boycotting the vote for amendment by the legislature.

Through its modes of governance and decisions, the AL-led government of Bangladesh has created one problem after another. The flawed ICT spells another step in the wrong direction. In increasingly ridiculous developments, AL MP Shawkat Momen Shahjahan, recently accused one of the most well known and senior commanders of the liberation war, Kader Siddiqui, of being a war criminal and demanded that he should be tried under the ICT. The claim was laughable as Kader Siddiqui, nicknamed Bagha (Tiger) Siddiqui for the ferociousness of his force in 1971, is the only civilian recipient of the gallantry award for his role in the liberation war. Surprisingly, no AL leader condemned this MP for the allegation, damaging the public image of the AL leadership.

However, the ludicrous accusation, combined with the telling silence, is perhaps unsurprising. Mr. Siddiqui joined the opposition alliance with his party, Krishak Sramik Janata League, and is one of the fiercest critics of the ruling Government, writing a regular column in the Bengali daily, Doinik Naya Diganta, where he harshly critiques the government and its leadership. Additionally, he speaks at all ‘Road March’ meetings of Khaleda Zia. It would seem that the ‘War Criminal’ cry is in fact part of a wider witch hunt of political opposition, initiated by the government under the banner of a so-called tribunal.

The ruling AL government of Bangladesh, led by the indefatigable Hasina Wajed, has certainly got its hands full. Yet none can be blamed but themselves, as they tumble down a reckless course of violently reactionary politics, from the veritable witch hunt of the ICT to the abuse of their position in parliament. The outcome may be disastrous, as precedent shows.

In August of 1975, following a rule that began democratic but later became an autocratic one-party establishment, the Premier’s father, President Mujib, was assassinated with almost all of his family members in a coup led by the army. This was followed by a further coup and counter coup by different factions of the army in November 1975 that resulted in the killing of dozens of senior political leaders. Many were jailed, including the top four senior AL leaders who were killed in jail, and dozens of senior army officers, including liberation war commander and decorated war hero Brig. Gen. Khaled Mosharraf. In May 1981, President Zia was assassinated, again in a coup led by an army general, followed by a brief coup and counter coup that resulted in the killing of a number of senior army officers. A dozen further officers were hanged for their alleged involvement in Zia’s murder, although the trial process, like the ICT, was questionable. More recently, the AL-led government conducted a dubious trial for President Mujib’s murder, hanging a number of former senior army officers, some of whom were also leaders of opposition political parties.

The cycle of political retribution and violence is no stranger to this young country, yet its leaders appear unwilling to learn. With the ICT trials targeting only political opponents under the cover of a flawed legal process, the AL Government is in danger of repeating a pattern that has been going on for over 36 years. Unfortunately, political vengeance is a recurrent presence in Bangladesh. Should the fires be stoked any further, the danger of a civil confrontation draws ever nearer. Hasina’s government would do well to steer clear of the paths taken by her predecessors, for the good of her party and her country. As it stands, her decisions paint a road map for political disaster.